


Memories of a Distant Past

by lagunasfaeries



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagunasfaeries/pseuds/lagunasfaeries
Summary: While walking through Whispering Oaks, Coach reflects on what the amusement park means to him.
Kudos: 1





	Memories of a Distant Past

**Author's Note:**

> A fic originally posted in 2013, now being posted here for everyone's viewing pleasure. This was written at a time where I was really into the L4D franchise and its characters, and can only hope that the fandom can enjoy it today.

The quartet made their way into the amusement park. It was quite ironic that, given all that had happened, they still called it an "amusement park;" nothing in the way of fun, games, or general enjoyment had happened here in a long time. Everything still sat as it did in the days when those things were bountiful; if one discounted the remnants of dead zombies everywhere, it almost looked like they had simply snuck in before any of the staff started their duty.

_Shit, I used to come here when I was a kid._

Ellis was the one who had spotted the sign denoting Whispering Oaks was ahead, but Coach was the one with all of the fond memories. As a kid, there was no better thing to do than to spend a day at Whispering Oaks with his parents; and all those memories had flooded to the forefront of Coach's mind the moment that Ellis had read the sign.

And now the three strangers he found himself traveling with were staring back at him. "Coach? Are you coming?" asked Ellis. "Or are we takin' a short rest again?"

But he might as well have been trying to make conversation with some of the dead zombies, because Coach was too wrapped up in his memories to hear anything.

There was the carousel, the bumper cars. The Screaming Oak, the scariest roller coaster that side of the Mississippi River. But even more fond than Coach's memories of all of the rides were his memories of all the food.

_Cotton candy, sitting on top of the food pyramid; passing judgement upon all the lesser foods._

He remembered the time when he'd come with a few friends, and they all tried to get the highest score in the Test Your Strength game. Coach had always been bigger and stronger than everyone else his age, so he easily won, and the prize was nothing else but a huge swirl of garish pink cotton candy.

He was eight then.

He could remember another time when he'd come alone, when he was a little older, and he came across a little girl who had gotten separated from her parents and was crying. He bought her a swirl of cotton candy and took her on the carousel to make her feel better, and when they found her parents they promised that, if he'd ever needed anything, to give them a call.

He wondered, then, if that family had survived the infection.

_Mmm-mm. Peach cobbler._

Peach cobbler was another thing entirely; it was an extremely popular confection in the South, and by the time he was nine and a half, Coach could eat a whole pan of it all on his own if he was left unsupervised. He'd always be in a hurry to ride all of the rides that he wanted to, or that his friends wanted to if he'd come with them, so that he'd be able to get some. Whispering Oaks always had some of the best peach cobbler; it was almost, _almost_ , better than Coach's mother's, in his mind.

But that cobbler was only a memory now. He would never taste it again.

And then there was the Tunnel of Love- the place that still managed to bring Coach back to Whispering Oaks over and over again when he was well into his teens. Yes, now that he'd given it some thought, this place essentially was where he'd made the transformation from child to awkward teen to ladies' man, which he still claimed to be every now and then. Not that it mattered; the only woman around seemed to be Rochelle, and she was much too young for his tastes.

As Coach forced himself to follow behind his teammates, he suddenly recalled Nick's words when Coach had let them all know that he'd been here as a kid.

_"Oh good, now we can die there as adults."_

Coach never considered himself a pessimistic man, but as he trudged on he thought: would it really, truly be such a bad thing if he really did die here today?

No more seeing people who had died from the attacks. No more killing zombies, and no more disappointments. Nick, Ellis, and Rochelle were capable enough to make it out without him, and he'd be here forever, in a state of nostalgic euphoria. It didn't matter if all the people he'd once cared about weren't able to be with him physically; he'd honor the memories they had made by staying here, doing all the things that had brought them joy in the old days.

No, no. That wouldn't do.

So Savannah was a ghost town now. They could have gotten out. What if there were a bunch of people holed up in New Orleans, just waiting for him? How would they feel when they got the news- that Coach had been alive, but quit when the going got tough? At that moment, Coach decided he'd never know the answer to that question, because he was going to carry on until he reached civilization; or until his feet couldn't carry him on anymore.

As they passed the cobbler house, Coach found a flyer advertising it that was still in decent condition, and folded it into his pocket.

The memories of his distant past would be with him always. 


End file.
